


The king's whims

by RembrandtsWife



Category: Merlin - Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-29
Updated: 2009-09-29
Packaged: 2017-10-13 20:32:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/RembrandtsWife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It would be easier if he didn't know that this act could be done for love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The king's whims

**Author's Note:**

> A companion piece to "The king's moods".

Gwen could have told him about the king's moods. But Gwen keeps her own counsel, and tells no one what troubles her heart. The only way she can bear what she has to bear is to bear it in silence.

King Uther Pendragon has moods, yes. Moods that send him prowling the castle halls, looking for something he is too proud to say he needs. Moods that involve privacy, silence, and the castle maids. And sometimes, he has whims, like this one--the whim that has Merlin on his knees, sucking the royal prick.

Uther leans back in his chair, slouched in comfort while Merlin kneels with bowed head. There's a soft rug under the king's feet, but Merlin's knees still ache through his thin trousers. His back aches from mucking out the prince's stables yesterday. His throat aches as he sucks and bobs.

When the whim strikes him, the king sends for Merlin and bids him close the door and bar it behind him. He does not speak, but beckons Merlin to stand before him, close, closer. Then he lays those heavy gloved hands on Merlin's shoulders and pushes him down. Merlin resists just enough that the king must know he is using force; Merlin does not kneel of his own will. The king drops casually into his chair, unlaces his trousers, and takes his prick out. Sometimes it's already hard and demanding; sometimes it's still soft yet thick, cradled like a warm stone in the king's hand. Merlin takes it in his mouth, slowly, keeping his hands to himself. A bit of nuzzling and licking, a bit of mouthing the head, will wake it up if it's not already stiff. Uther is quick to rouse and slow to be satisfied.

Uther is watching with lazy, heavy-lidded eyes. Merlin knows without being told that watching is half the pleasure here, that he rouses Uther with the sight of his full lips working on Uther's cock, with the shine that his spit leaves on reddened skin, with the flush of effort in his cheeks. It would be easier, perhaps, he thinks, or maybe not, if he hadn't done this a few times for Will, if Will hadn't returned the favor, if he hadn't dreamt of Arthur and doing this for Arthur, not because he was forced to, but because he wanted to, he wanted to be on his knees with the prince's cock in his mouth, and yes, he wanted Arthur to return the favor, too, insolent idiotic thought that it was.

It would be easier if he didn't know that this act could be done for love.

Merlin consoles himself as best he can. He consoles himself by thinking that it would be worse if he did not, as it seems, prefer the touch of a man to the company of a woman. He consoles himself by thinking that Uther looks nothing like Arthur, smells nothing like Arthur, and thus must feel nothing like Arthur, taste nothing like Arthur. He consoles himself by thinking that Arthur, if he were to want this, if he were to permit this, would not want it this way, with Merlin kneeling helplessly, hands fisted in his pockets, mouth open, not merely a servant but a service. He tells himself that Arthur would not curl his fingers around the back of his neck, twine them hard into his hair, hold his head still so that he can do nothing but yield as the cock thrusts into his mouth, uses him, gags him. He tells himself that Arthur would not touch him only with gloved hands.

He tells himself all this as Uther, with a low grunt, spills into his mouth.

Merlin swallows as best he can and wipes his mouth on his sleeve. Uther cleans himself off; not even for this will he suffer Merlin to touch him. Merlin stays on his knees until the king dismisses him with a gesture, then hurries for the door with his shoulders hunched up around his ears. Arthur will be waiting for him. Gaius might need his help with something. Arthur is waiting for him. Arthur needs him. That's why he stays.


End file.
